


maybe

by freedomatsea



Series: Hell's Kitchen Universe Pieces [8]
Category: The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Morning Sex, Smut, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-18
Updated: 2017-11-18
Packaged: 2019-02-03 20:42:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12755838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freedomatsea/pseuds/freedomatsea
Summary: Karen can't sleep after almost dying. Again.





	maybe

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for everything up to 1x10.

How do you sleep after you’ve almost been killed? Unfortunately, that was a question that Karen had grappled with more often than one woman should in her lifetime. The answer was simple. You _don’t._

You lay awake with a gun on your nightstand, watching every shadow play across your ceiling, ready to kill it. To shoot it down, put it in its place, and ensure that nothing can hurt you again. But it can. Not the shadows, no. But something, inevitably. Something will get you.

Karen rolled onto her side, staring at the red numbers taunting her with 3:00 AM. She had to be up for work in three hours. She hasn’t slept at all. She was wired. Wide awake.

She clenched her eyes closed, trying to will herself to sleep. Just a few minutes.

Truth be told, part of her problem was that she kept thinking of Frank. Where he was. _How_ he was. It was clear when they parted ways, that he’d lost a lot blood. He’d looked like a fucking mess. Limping, bleeding, barely standing up straight.

Karen sat bolt upright at the sound of a thump beyond her bedroom door. “ _Fuck_.” Her she reached for her gun, holding it tight.

“It’s just Ms. Murphy.” Karen tried to reassure herself, slipping out of her bed. “Ms. Murphy and her big bag of cat food.” She nudged her bedroom door open carefully, looking out at her front door.

“ _Shit_.” She swore, clutching her gun tighter at the sight of a shadow barely visibly beneath the bottom of her door. Lewis was dead. It had to be over.

Karen approached her door slowly, she could hear labored breathing on the other side of the door and the realization struck her.

“Frank.” Karen whispered, unlatching her door, watching as he fell backwards onto her floor. “Frank!”

“Hey.” He cracked a faint grin that shifted into a grimace as he looked up at her. “Got a bandaid?”

Karen sat her gun aside, leaning down to wrap her arms around his middle, awkwardly pulling him backwards into her apartment so she could shut the door before anyone saw the bleeding criminal on her proverbial doorstep. “Jesus Christ Frank.”

“Didn’t know where else to go…” Frank trailed off, his eyes clenched closed. “I need a shower.”

“You need your fucking arm set.” Karen bit out, kneeling down beside him. “I thought it looked dislocated.”

“Firemen need longer hoses.” Frank said humorlessly.

Karen rolled her eyes, skimming her hands over his torso, “How much blood have you lost?”

“Not enough that you need to worry.”

Karen laughed, incredulously. “You’re a goddamn moron, Frank.” She gasped when she saw the piece of shrapnel sticking out of his arm. “You need a Doctor Frank!”

“Get me to the bathroom. I can take care of it.” Frank insisted, forcing himself up. “I just needed somewhere safe. I can patch it up.”

Karen swallowed thickly, sitting back on her knees as she watched him struggle to sit upright. He was paler than normal and the blood made that all the more apparent. “Did you get shot?” She questioned, reaching out to touch his temple. “That was a close call.”

“It was just a graze.” Frank shrugged.

Karen let out a sob at that. One she’d been holding in since the elevator. “Frank this has to stop!”

Frank’s expression sobered. “Karen…”

“I almost died today and so did you. From the looks of you, a few times more than I almost did.” She cupped his cheek, holding his gaze. “Please, Frank. Please let this be the last time.”

“And _then_ what Karen? This whole fucking city has it out for me. I’ll end up on trial again. Thrown away in prison.” His Adam’s Apple quivered. “Not that it matters.”

“ _Not that it matters_.” Karen echoed back at him. “Do you think any of this makes me feel good? I was just laying in my bed, unable to sleep, because I couldn’t stop thinking about where _you_ were! If you were okay. So don’t sit here and act like you going to prison wouldn’t matter. It would matter to me. You’re _all_ I have left now, Frank. And the only person in this whole Godforsaken city that gets me!” She wiped at her nose, looking away. “It kills me knowing that there are people out there that want to take you away from me. But not as much as it kills me that you’d willingly take yourself away from me.”

“Karen, I don’t know what you think this can be.” Frank grimaced as he leaned forward, touching her cheek. “I can’t come back from this shit. I can’t _ever_ give you a life. For the rest of my days, I’m gonna be a criminal. A wanted man. That’s no life for you. Being tied to the rabid dog this city wants to put a bullet in.”

It was stupid. Really fucking stupid. He was hurt and she was upset, but she still made the move. She all but lunged forward and kissed him, with anger and desire and everything she couldn’t say. She wanted to make him hurt like he was making her hurt.

Even with his dislocated shoulder, he managed to curl his hand around the back of her head. She could taste his blood, smearing across her lips as she sank into the kiss. She’d wondered for too damn long what kissing him would be like and now she knew.

Frank broke away from the kiss, breathing raggedly, pain written all over his face. “What the fuck Karen?”

Karen closed her eyes, trying to pull herself together. “I don’t… I don’t know.” She ran a hand over her face, her fingers lingering at her lips as she looked away. “Come on, let’s get you patched up.” She said as calmly as possible.

Frank didn’t question her further. She helped him get up and into her too-small bathroom. She let him do most of the work. He knew how to set his dislocated shoulder. He knew how to pull the shrapnel out of his arm. But she had to so the stitches. His arm, his face, his chest.

It’s was nearly 4 AM on a Monday and she had Frank Castle standing shirtless and bloody in her bathroom, staining her best white towels with his blood. But his blood was all over her face, drying on her lips from where she’d kissed him. _Kissed him_. What the hell had she been thinking?

“You can stay here for as long as you need to.” Karen told him, lingering in the doorway as she watched him washing his face. “I think I’m going to call Ellison and tell him I’m coming in late.”

“I think he’ll understand, all things considered.” Frank remarked, glancing at her reflection in the mirror. “Get some sleep Karen. I’m gonna take a shower.”

Karen gave a strained laugh at that. “I don’t know if I’m gonna sleep much tonight. What’s left of it. I’m still pretty shaken.”

“They check you out?”

“Scratches and bruises, really. Some glass. Surprisingly no concussion.” Karen rubbed her hands together. “I lucked out.”

“You did.” He smiles and nodded, turning to start the shower.

“On that note…” Karen swallowed thickly and pulled the door shut. She lingered, listening to him as he got the water just right, catching the sound of his pants hitting the floor.

Kissing him had been such a stupid fucking thing to do. And she’d thought that sleeping had been hard before.

She laid awake again. Only this time her gun was put away and it wasn’t the shadows keeping her awake. It was the sound of water running. Of that distinct sensation that she wasn’t alone, in a good way. Karen knew exactly who was in there, occupying space that was usually vacant. Filling the voids in her apartment that had been great ravines of loneliness.

“Karen?” Frank questioned, after the long silence of him redressing in what clothes he had left.

She rolled over to face his shadowy figure in her doorframe. She could barely see him in the low light of the rising sun. But she knew that this was one of those moments. A crossroads.

Karen blew out a breath, covering her mouth for a mere moment before she spoke. “Get in.”

Frank didn’t protest her request. Taking slow steps to the edge of her bed. The bed bowed beneath his weight as he settled into the covers beside her.

“It’s been a long time since I haven’t slept alone.”

“Yeah. Me too.” Frank tucked an arm beneath his head. “Shower made me feel human again.”

Karen inhaled deeply, trying not to laugh. “You smell human again too.” She teased, rolling over so her back was to him. It was safer that way. If she couldn’t see him.

“Sorry I had to put the same shit covered clothes on.”

“It’s fine.” Karen assured him, reaching behind her to pat his hand.

“You’re too good to me, Karen. Too good _for_ me.” He turned his hand over beneath hers and she instinctively curled her fingers around his.

Karen didn’t respond to that. There was no point in arguing it with him.

That was how she woke up - six hours later. Her hand still tightly grasping his, bathed in the mid-morning light.

He was snoring. Which was strangely endearing. Big ole bad Frank Castle, wanted murderer, allege terrorist, snoring in her bed. He looked like shit. His face all bruised up, his bottom lip busted.

Karen couldn’t help but wonder just how long it had been since he’d got a good night’s sleep. She also couldn’t help but wonder if how he’d react when he woke up. Beside her. Was he dreaming that she was his wife? That he was back in that other life, where things were good, holding his wife’s hand.

She released his hand, rolling back onto her side. Karen _knew_ that it wasn’t that simple for Frank, but she still felt the stupidest twinge of jealousy. But he wouldn’t have Frank any other way. This Frank, this bloodied and bruised man, I’m so many ways, was the Frank she cared about.

“ _Karen_.” Frank mumbled in his sleep, rolling onto his side, pulling her close, curling himself around her.

She inhaled sharply. She could feel _every_ inch of him pressed against her. Rationally, she knew all about the morning effect, but that didn’t keep her mind from wandering. Especially not when his face was buried in her hair and his breath was dancing hotly over her neck.

“Frank.” Karen said a little more firmly, pressing her ass back against him, gauging his response. “ _Frank_.”

“Shh.” He whispered in response and her heart skipped a beat.

“Oh.” Her mouth went dry and she nodded her head a little, acknowledging what was being laid out before her.

Frank ran his hand over her hip beneath the covers, urging her to roll her hips in response. There was such a contrast there. His heavy work pants and her light pajama bottoms rutting together.

“Please.” Karen titled her head to look back at him, taking his hand from her hip and dragging it down to where she wanted it. He took the hint, slipping his hand beneath her pajamas, beneath her underwear. She had to bite down on her bottom lip to keep from crying out when his fingers found her clit. How many times had she touched herself, wishing they were his fingers on her? And now it was happening.

His fingers were rough, but so fucking skilled. They were playing her like she was an instrument. And she just kept grinding back against him, moving in time with his fingers. It was simulating an act. One she was very keen to experience first hand.

Karen cried out his name softly as her release took hold of her. Her body clenching around nothing, that void she wanted him to fill. His fingers kept stroking her, urging her through her release. And fuck if it wasn’t the best one she’d ever had.

“Karen…” Frank trailed off. He shifted away from her, keeping his forehead pressed against her shoulder. “ _Fuck_.”

“You don’t get to pull away from me now.” Karen rolled over to face him, lifting her hands to drag him in for a kiss. This time he wasn’t resisting her. He wasn’t pulling away like last night. His hands were on her, trying to get under her clothes, to get to her.

Karen wasn’t some prude, not by any stretch. But there was something _so_ different about going at it 10:30 AM, after six hours of solid sleep.

“Like this,” Frank urged her, rolling onto his back, pulling her over with him.

Karen straddled him, flesh to flesh, her hands planted on his chest where he wasn’t too injured to touch. She rose up, guiding him into her, sinking down onto him.

Frank curled his hands around her hips, guiding her movements. They really could pick a hell of a time to go at it, when he was injured and somewhat out of commission. But they were making the most out of it.

Karen leaned over him, dipping down to kiss her, her hair falling around his face. “You feel so good Frank.” She told him, picking up the pace of her hips.

“I’m close.” Frank warned her, his mouth slanting over hers, tongue invading her mouth, claiming it. He hadn’t been kidding, he was right there, ready come apart. And she was right there behind him, her body clenching around him, milking his release out of him.

She wanted nothing more than to collapse atop him, but instead she let herself fall onto the beside him. “Holy shit.” She laughed, drawing the covers up around them. “Good morning.”

“Good morning.” Frank mumbled, reaching for her hand. “Was that…?”

Karen nodded his, smiling at him a little. “Perfect.” She laughed breathlessly. “A little unexpected. But in a good way.”

“My head was all fucked up last night, Karen. I didn’t mean to push you away.”

Karen hushed him. “It was stupid. I shouldn’t have been thinking about that when you were bleeding out on my floor.”

“Probably not getting that deposit back.” Frank told her with a low chuckle.

“Oh well. Better than a rain of bullets.” Karen shifted closer, resting her chin on his chest. “Is this the after, Frank?” She knew she was cracking away at this perfect little moment.

“I don’t know. Shit ain’t over.” Frank breathed out, closing his eyes. “I can’t make any promises I’m gonna break.”

Karen breathed out a heavy sigh. “Right. And after that? If you live to see an after?”

“I can’t see the future Karen.”

“Is there one?”

“Maybe. Maybe.” He sighed, trailing his fingers down her back. “ _Maybe_.”

Karen chewed on her bottom lip and nodded. “I’ll take your maybe.” She sighed resting her cheek on his chest. She knew that a _maybe_ was the slimmest chance in hell with him, but how could she walk away now?

“You happy, Karen?”

Karen tilted her head to meet his eyes, a small smirk on her lips. “ _Maybe_.”


End file.
